


Anything

by myoldsupernaturalaccount



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Top!Sam, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoldsupernaturalaccount/pseuds/myoldsupernaturalaccount
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean would do anything for Sam.  Anything.  Sam takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

Dean hated their “talks.” They had one about every six months, something about how insecure Sam was and how Dean needed to give in and talk about his own feelings once in a while. After about twenty minutes of Sam whining about how Dean had the emotional maturity of a rock, Dean stood up from the bed and crossed his arms.

“Fine, Sam. You know what, fine. I love you, there, you like hearing those words? I hate it when you're sad. I'd do anything for you. I thought I proved that enough times but apparently you need to hear it. Words are cheap, Sammy. Actions are what count.”

Sam stood up too, facing him squarely, hands huge on Dean's shoulders. “That's not the point, Dean. I know how you feel. The question is, do you?”

“What, are you deaf?” Dean questioned, face burning. “I said I'd do anything for you. Anything, Sam. Pretty sure I know how I feel.” He grabbed the back of Sam's head, fingers threading through the soft, irritatingly floral-scented strands and stared at him for a moment, then crushed their lips together. Sam's giant arms wound around Dean's shoulders and pulled him close, and relief flooded both of their minds. This wasn't okay, they knew that, but that didn't matter. It clicked. Everything fell into place in that endless moment, everything that they had been fighting back.

“I would do anything at all,” Dean whispered fiercely, nipping Sam's bottom lip. Sam groaned and pressed their mouths together again, exploring with his tongue as his hands roamed Dean's back, settling just above the swell of his ass. And a really, really nice ass it was, Sam thought.

“Anything? Would you...suck me off?” Sam breathed hesitantly just below Dean's ear, teasing the shell with his tongue. Dean shivered and nodded.

“I said anything, didn't I?” he asked, sinking to his knees and pushing at Sam's thighs, forcing him to sit down on the grungy blue coverlet of the motel bed. It squeaked loudly in protest as his weight rested on the ancient springs. “You won't be able to stand when I'm done with you,” Dean murmured into Sam's stomach, rubbing his cheek on the smooth cotton t-shirt that was barring Dean from feeling the hot skin that he craved. Almost like he read his mind Sam pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the bed behind him, and tugged off Dean's tee in turn, hands skimming up his chest and then returning to brush through his hair.

Sam couldn't stand how much of a rush it was, seeing his big brother on his knees in front of him, breath hot on the newly bared skin of his stomach, his lips damp and swollen from their kisses, tongue darting out to wet them even more.

“Now, Dean,” he ordered, feeling bolder by the minute. Dean grinned cheekily and swirled his tongue around Sam's navel.

“Hold your horses, Sammy,” he said, fingers deftly working Sam's fly open and pulling his jeans down so the waistband rested just above Sam's knees. He'd seen Sam's underwear a million times before, the tight black boxer briefs, but seeing them on him, filled with his – rather sizable, Dean noted – half-hard cock, well, that sent the blood rushing to Dean's groin and wiped the smart-ass smile right off his face.

“Wow, Sam, you certainly uh...grew up,” Dean managed, swallowing hard. Sam smirked.

“You know, Dean, I'd really like it if you kept your mouth closed unless it's filled with my dick,” Sam said casually, and Dean's cheeks flared pink.

“Geez, you're a kinky bastard,” Dean muttered, tugging down Sam's underwear a little more roughly than was maybe necessary. Sam fisted his hair and forced his head to tilt up, meeting his eyes.

“What did I just say, Dean?” he asked playfully, thumbing Dean's bottom lip with his unoccupied hand. “No talking.” Dean nipped his thumb but lowered his eyes in silent agreement. Sam couldn't help but notice how nicely his lashes swept across his freckled cheeks, how prettily his plush lips pouted. Dean was really gorgeous. And he was all Sam's.

“You are such a pretty little bitch,” Sam said, running his fingers through the short sandy hair. “Can't wait to see how those lips look doing what they do best. You've got perfect cock-sucking lips, Dean.”

Dean moaned and licked around the base of Sam's erection, tasting salty sweat and something musky that was purely Sam. His tongue danced up the shaft, just the very tip slipping along the underside, and flicked just beneath the head. He drank in Sam's groans and gasps as he took the head into his mouth, closing his lips around it and teasing the slit with his tongue, running it back and forth and then swirling around, soft and slow and sloppy. Sam's grip on his hair tightened and Dean felt his own cock hardening. He moved one hand off of Sam's thigh to palm it but Sam grabbed his wrist and held it out of the way.

“I don't think I want you coming until I do,” he said, fingers bruising on Dean's arm. Shit, when did Sam get so strong? Dean opened his mouth to protest but Sam pushed his head down to take in more of his cock. Tears sprang to the eyes of the older Winchester, unaccustomed as he was to having something that large shoved down his throat, but he flattened his tongue and hollowed his throat as best he could and swallowed around the fleshy intrusion. He was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from Sam, and, encouraged, he began to move a little at a time, shifting up and down. Even when he took as much as he could into his mouth, still a substantial part of the shaft was uncovered, so he wrapped one hand around the base and worked it gently, trailing his other hand along Sam's inner thigh to massage his balls.

Sam was pretty sure that if Dean was any better at sucking cock he'd be a goddamn professional. The sensations his brother was creating were absolutely unreal, and the sense of power he got from knowing that Dean would do anything – anything! – for him was intoxicating in the best possible way.

“You are so fucking good at this,” Sam groaned, dropping his chin to his chest to better watch Dean blow him. “God, just look at you...you're not just doing this 'cause I want it, you're doing this 'cause you want it, aren't you? You want to be on your knees in front of me, sucking my cock like some kind of whore...shit, Dean, you're so hot I can't stand it.”

Dean hummed around Sam's dick, sucking hard and tightening the ring of his lips. Sam hissed in response and bucked his hips slightly, the head of his cock hitting the back of Dean's throat and almost causing him to gag. He swallowed again, involuntarily, and his spit-shined lips parted slightly to let his tongue slip out and brush along the underside of the shaft. Still holding him by the hair, Sam pulled him off and hauled him up to kiss him, messy and brutal and punishing, biting and sucking Dean's lips like he couldn't get enough.

“As nice as that was, I think I'd rather come in your hot little ass,” he said into Dean's lips, licking away the precome clinging to the corners. “If it's okay with you,” he continued, voice suddenly full of concern. Dean grinned and pressed a quick kiss to Sam's mouth.

“If it weren't, I wouldn't be doing this,” he said, kissing him again. Sam let out the breath he had been holding.

“Good,” he replied. “So shut up and take off your pants.”

“As you wish,” Dean answered, shimmying out of his jeans and boxers and dropping them to the floor. His erection curved proudly towards his stomach, and Sam swallowed down a sudden surge of lust.

“On the bed, face down,” Sam ordered, standing and pulling his pants the rest of the way down. Dean complied hurriedly, spreading his legs invitingly. Sam groaned involuntarily at the sight, shoved a pillow under Dean's hips, and ran a hand along the back of Dean's leg.

“You look so good all spread out for me,” he said, fingers skittering along the beautiful creamy ass before him. Dean arched up into his touch, moaning lightly, and bit his bottom lip. Sam moved away long enough to search his duffel for the bottle of lube he knew was in there and, finding it, he poured some onto his hand and slicked up his fingers. “Deep breaths now,” Sam said, “I know you're new to this. And I'm gonna make you feel it for weeks.”

He eased one finger up to the first knuckle, rotating it slowly, getting Dean used to the feel of something inside him. Dean relaxed and opened up perfectly, like he was meant for this – made to be fucked by Sam. The thought made him smile a little, and he slipped another finger inside him. This was a tighter squeeze, and he had to work the two together a little, curling and spreading them a tiny bit at a time, pressing at the spot inside of Dean that made him whimper and bite the pillow. He played with his hole for several long minutes, making Dean shudder and gasp and cry out, until he thought maybe he was ready enough.

“I am going to fuck you open,” Sam said, his voice raw with lust. “I am going to fucking pound into you until you can't breathe.” He smoothed the remaining lube from his fingers over his dick and spilled more of the cool liquid into his hand, spreading that along his shaft as well. “Wanna get on your hands and knees for me?” he asked, and Dean rushed to do as he was told, one hand gripping the headboard and the other flat on the mattress, knees spread as wide as he could.

“Well aren't you good,” Sam smirked. He lined himself up and thrust straight into Dean, so slowly that he thought he was going to die. It felt unbelievably good and apparently Dean felt the same, as he threw his head back and let out a long, keening sound that just made Sam want to fuck him harder. One of Sam's hands gripped his hip hard and the other rested on his shoulder, long fingers curling around the front of his neck. As he started to rock his hips back and forth, an idea struck him, and he tightened his hold on Dean's neck, not cutting off his air completely but just restricting it a little. Dean gasped and wheezed and the vibrations of his moans went straight through his hand and up his arm. He felt them all the way throughout his body. He stroked the long, firm column of Dean's throat, loving the knowledge that if he wanted...but he wouldn't.

Dean couldn't breathe, and it had nothing to do with Sam's hand on his neck. It had everything to do with the overwhelming sensation of Sam filling him completely, pounding into him and hitting his prostate dead on with every thrust. He felt split open and sewn together all at once. The air in the room was cool on his burning cock. He couldn't touch it himself without falling over, and he knew that Sam wouldn't do it for him. He'd just have to wait.

Sam's thrusts sped up, hips snapping into Dean's and leaving the skin flushed pink behind him. When he came, it was after a cry of “Dean!” that echoed throughout the room and sang in Dean's ears. He pulled out quickly, letting the come drip down Dean's thighs. Sam took a moment to enjoy the sight of Dean like that, quivering and sweating, fucked open and covered in his come.

“Oh look at that,” Sam breathed in Dean's ear. “You haven't come yet, have you?” A noise that was scarily close to a whimper escaped from between Dean's lips and Sam chuckled.

“Roll over,” he whispered, and Dean fell onto his back, shaking limbs collapsing. Sam kissed him gently and moved his lips over Dean's torso, mapping it with his mouth and tongue. He ignored the beautiful noises Dean made in favor of tasting him, memorizing his skin and smell, working his way down to lick the head of Dean's cock.

“I'd do anything for you, too,” Sam said softly, and took it deep into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and undulating his tongue. Dean vibrated with his moans, deep and rough, and Sam felt them run through his throat and into his blood. His heart beat in time with the pulses of Dean's veins, and he felt closer to him than he had ever been. Sam wasn't skilled but he was passionate, and he had Dean's hips stuttering and balls clenching in short order. When Dean came he swallowed it all, gulping it down and reveling in knowing that it was yet another part of Dean that was his.

They lay beside each other, sated and exhausted, their eyes not meeting.

“We need to do that again some time,” Sam said finally, cheeks red.

Dean nodded. “Definitely.”

There were a few moments of silence, somewhere between awkward and expectant.

“When you said you'd do anything for me...did you mean it?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded eagerly. “Anything, Dean. Anything to make you happy. Why?”

Dean smirked. “No reason.”

“Oh come on, Dean,” Sam cajoled. “If you don't tell me I can't do it.”

“You'll know when you need to know,” Dean said, and his voice held a promise of many things to come. Sam liked that promise, and when he fell asleep a few minutes later, it was with a smile on his face.


End file.
